Last year on December 7th, I wrote yet again, of my Dad and his stories of surviving the attack on Pearl Harbor by Japanese forces in 1941. Dad passed away in 2001 and I have always felt charged with the duty of “Never Forgetting” the experience he went through while stationed in Hawaii.
Survivors of that fateful “day that lives in infamy” dwindle each year as aging another year loses out to death for those remaining servicemen and women. Their survivors, families and friends, are then charged with keeping their memories alive.
I know there will come a time when those survivors, including myself, will pass away. I know that someday, December 7th, 1941; will become a date that does not “live in infamy”, but will only be topics in a history book and photographs catalogued in historical archives or stored in scrapbooks and old, dusty photo albums.
My Dad never forgot that day. He never forgot “buddies” who died on that day. In his last years, Dad suffered with dementia due to old age. He forgot many things. He became easily confused about days of the week. He never became confused about this day and those events that occurred 75 years ago.
I am almost positive he heard the speech given by President Roosevelt the next day as he spoke to Congress and the people of the United States. I am most certain that my Dad agreed with the President that December 7th, 1941; would be a day that would live in infamy and I know he vowed to never forget.
What more fitting tribute to those survivors alive today could there be; if not, knowing their comrades in battle remembered them always; and those same comrades instilled the memory in their generations to come; of that fateful day.
The date of December 7th, 1941 may become just an answer on a high school History test over the next generations, but until I become part of that never ending energy released back into the Universe, I will remain “Never Forgetting.”